


your everything makes me move

by 2ndstartotheright



Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, M/M, Mutual Pining, author is a firm believer in the juyeon big hands agenda, bc i haven’t slept for the past 24 hours, biting your bros can be something so personal and intimate, borrowed a tiny bit from Dracula so thanks bram stoker, jukyu size difference uwu, rated HT for horny tender, unbeta’d
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:20:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27523732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2ndstartotheright/pseuds/2ndstartotheright
Summary: “So, which one is it?” Changmin asks, thumb soothing circles on flushed skin. “Me asking you to come for me, or the biting?”Juyeon groans. “It’s the handjob,” he bites back, but it lands weakly.Changmin laughs softly. “Liar.” The violet hue inside the studio makes the brown in Changmin’s eyes glow black, and Juyeon catches glints of his own delirium reflected in them.“We’re running out of time, Juyeonie. Be good for me and tell me what you like,” Changmin breathes.——I could learn to love you,Juyeon thinks;more than I do already.
Relationships: Ji Changmin | Q/Lee Juyeon
Comments: 14
Kudos: 152





	your everything makes me move

**Author's Note:**

> this was meant to be a short pwp but things got slightly out of hand. also, i know halloween is technically over but time is fake so that means i’m on time.
> 
> (this is canon compliant because Juyeon is so easily endeared by small and cute things and Changmin is the smallest and the cutest.)

Juyeon feels weighed down in his seat, unable to tear his eyes away from the man with the glowing crimson irises. The light catches on the sharpest points of his fangs when he speaks.

“I am a creature of the night,” the man says in a low, slithering hiss that slips past his blood-red lips. “I am the monster breathing men would kill!”

Chanhee scoffs, snatching away the ring light Changmin had shone on his face throughout his dramatic speech, “Sure, Discount Dracula, now get out of my chair. I need to finish my make up.”

Sunwoo snickers from across the room, a hand pressed to his mouth to mute the sound. Eric, on the other hand, slaps his thigh and laughs loudly, careening into Juyeon’s side with the force of it.

Changmin frowns; he’s hardly one to entertain being slighted, even though half of the time Juyeon knows the annoyance isn’t real, and he only does it because he thinks it’s fun to cause problems on purpose.

Juyeon knows a lot of things about Changmin; having relied so heavily on Changmin as his dance partner all these years, he knows Changmin like an extension of his own body.

So, when Changmin goes quiet, and thumbs at the dull points of his plastic fangs, while glaring at them with an all too familiar shine in his eyes, Juyeon knows it’s bad news.

At least there are two bodies between him and Changmin which gives Juyeon a bit more protection until he can escape. But Chanhee, standing the closest to Changmin however, is exposed, and is too preoccupied with lining his eyes with kohl to catch it. He’s the first victim.

Changmin pounces, dragging Chanhee closer and latching on to his exposed arm. Chanhee howls, the scream mixing with incredulous laughter at the same time as he writhes to shake Changmin off. It’s the wrong move because usually fighting back only makes Changmin bite even harder – Juyeon knows.

Last time Changmin had gone on a rampage the dorm had been in chaos, and the only reason Juyeon had sat there and endured it mostly because he’d been tired – that, and the fact that he hadn’t actually expected Changmin to go through with his threats; Juyeon had been a fool.

All of this gives Juyeon a few precious extra minutes to save himself. This has happened enough times that by now they’ve established a routine, and it goes like this: split and run, because it’s every man for himself.

His outfit is leather and spandex, flexible and slippery meanwhile Eric is dressed as Mona Lisa and Sunwoo has a muscle suit on. Juyeon makes the split-second decision to push Eric towards Changmin and Chanhee so he can slip past the grappling duo.

Juyeon shakes off a hand trying to latch on to him before slamming the door shut behind him. The blood-curdling screams from the other side of the door still travel across the thin walls, permeating the air and echoing off the smooth floors.

The commotion makes Kevin startle up from the crouch he’d been in, engaged in snapping a selfie. He widens his eyes, cocking his head in question and visibly shudders when Juyeon nods, affirming his suspicions.

Kevin follows him silently, in quiet solidarity after a look of understanding has passed between them. Together they hide behind the thick white curtains until it’s time to start shooting their halloween dance practice.

After multiple takes and the filming of individual clips for their introductions are over, they’re finally done for the day. Younghoon has a late rehearsal for his upcoming musical and has to leave right away, so Juyeon spends the short ride back to the dorm daydreaming about finally having his room all to himself – at least for a few hours.

But life never works out the way Juyeon wants – an ominous voice drifts from the shadows of his bed just as he’s about to enter his room, making him jump, fists coming in close to his chest in defense.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Lee Juyeon.”

“Shit! Oh my God, what the hell is wrong with you?” Juyeon demands, rubbing over his chest to calm his racing heart.

It’s late enough that the dorm has finally settled down for the night, and the only sounds travelling through the apartment are muted – Juyeon’s voice cuts sharply through the silence.

Changmin in turn only looks amused, beckoning Juyeon further into the room with a graceful flick of his wrist. Juyeon obeys, mostly out of confusion and the lingering effects of shock still buzzing in his system.

A few long, silk strands of hair break free from the sleek sweep of his backcombed hair to fall over his forehead when he rises to his feet. “What you did earlier wasn’t very nice, Juyeonie,” Changmin tells him, tucking the stray strand of hair behind his ear. “You sacrificed Eric and got away. Don’t you think it’s unfair to Chanhee and the maknaes that you’re the only one who didn’t get caught?”

Cute, Juyeon’s mind supplies, even though there’s mischief visibly brimming in Changmin’s eyes, twinning the deadly sharpness from earlier that day.

The glint dulls, the closer Changmin gets, softened by exhaustion and the late hour, and though it’s enough of a warning sign for Juyeon to turn heel and run – he doesn’t.

Changmin reaches around him to push the door close behind him, and grins, tint covered lips stretching in a slow smirk when he crowds Juyeon against the door. The fangs are gone but Juyeon knows that Changmin’s deadly enough without them.

Changmin regards Juyeon with a tilt of his head. “Did you run because you were scared?”

“No, you were acting too cute and it was so gross.” Juyeon lies.

Changmin’s eyebrows furrow, gathering to points on his small forehead. He glances down at his bare feet, then back up at Juyeon, a slightly menacing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “So you’re telling me that if I bite you right now you’re not going to run screaming?”

Juyeon knows Changmin’s only teasing, but his friend is also unpredictable – a wild card, and most of the time it’s funny, except for when it isn’t.

He must have a death wish he doesn’t know about yet because he finds himself cooing, “Only if you promise to stop being so cute.” Just to annoy Changmin some more he reaches out to pinch his cheek at the same time.

Changmin moves in a blur, his hand coming out to grab Juyeon’s like a vice. He has no time to react before Changmin brings it to his mouth and sinks his teeth into the paper thin skin on the inside of his wrist.

It’s a quick bite; on the Changmin Chomp Scale it’s a solid four, but it catches Juyeon off guard enough to make him gasp at the pressure and then the lingering sting of teeth.

Juyeon stares incredulously at the red indents and the spots of saliva left behind on his skin when Changmin finally pulls off, lips only moving away a few inches from his arm, looking entirely too satisfied.

It’s probably at this point that Juyeon’s caveman brain completely overrides his survival instincts because now he’s feeling competitive.

Let it be known that Lee Juyeon has never backed down from a challenge.

Juyeon cocks an eyebrow, loosening his posture to lean more comfortably against the closed door. “See, cute, like those puppies.”

Changmin takes it in stride. It feels a little bit like the unspoken stand-offs they used to have when they were still trainees, practicing tedious points of their choreography even after the rest of the members had gone home, taking turns to dance; freestyle; moving, until they collapsed.

“Vampires aren’t cute. They’re sexy and dangerous. Deadly,” Changmin hisses. To prove his point he pushes Juyeon’s sleeve higher up on his arm to bite the curve of his shoulder.

Pressed so close, Juyeon is suddenly all too aware of the way his height is contrasted against Changmin’s, sans insoles or chunky sneakers. “How will you drain humans when you can’t even reach high enough to bite them properly?” Juyeon smirks down at him.

“Like this,” Changmin tells him before placing a hand on Juyeon’s chest, and using it to drag down the collar of his already stretched out t-shirt before leaning in and biting down hard on Juyeon’s collarbone.

This bite shocks him the most because it stings like a motherfucker. Juyeon curses, body jerking away from the sensation. Changmin looks pleased with himself, watching Juyeon through his mascara-curled long lashes. He uses his thumb to swipe away the saliva from the bite, before pressing down on the sensitive skin to make Juyeon hiss.

The sharp hurt ebbs into a dull throbbing – Juyeon feels it travel under his skin, so close to the bone. It’s different – feels less like a game. The room is too quiet, and the air inside is too charged. The shadows distort the space at the edges, and Juyeon’s just starting to become aware of every point of contact between their bodies – the way he can feel Changmin’s warm breath on his exposed skin.

There’s no point left to prove, there probably hadn’t been in the first place – sometimes they both do things just because they can, and this is one of those moments.

But Changmin’s fingers are still on his skin, fluttering up, up, and up the side of his neck and ghosting over his throat before tangling in the short hair at the back of his head. Changmin tugs at Juyeon’s hair gently, tilting his head sideways to expose the long column of his throat.

He wraps an arm around Changmin’s narrow waist partly out of habit – to steady him – partly to bind them even closer together when Changmin leans against his body for leverage to rise up on his toes to nose at the sensitive skin of Juyeon’s neck.

Juyeon’s body thrums in anticipation as he waits for Changmin to make the next move. The bite is delayed, and instead Juyeon feels the featherlight brush of lips, before he finally feels the way Changmin’s teeth graze his skin.

It doesn’t hurt this time; that’s not what Changmin’s going for anymore, Juyeon realises a bit belatedly. “No marks,” he manages to gasp out.

It makes Changmin laugh. “Do I look like an amateur to you?”

“Sorry, just a habit,” Juyeon mutters.

“And yet you’re always the one stylist Noonas has to cover up the most,” Changmin says.

Juyeon's last few remaining brain cells are still trying to catch up with reality, so he just shrugs, too turned on to keep up with witty banter. None of this makes sense anymore anyway. But Changmin must think it’s a satisfactory answer because he continues to kiss and bite Juyeon’s neck until he’s writhing against him.

Changmin stills when his thigh slips in between Juyeon’s. He pulls away slowly, and Juyeon blushes, face burning with shame, but also because he’s half hard in his sweats and Changmin’s looking at him like he wants to do something about it.

Juyeon tightens his hold on Changmin’s waist, fingers digging in to stop himself from doing something really stupid like run his nose along the soft swell of Changmin’s cheek, tilt his head just a few degrees to the left and kiss him.

A knock on the door brings reality crashing down around them. Changmin jumps away with a soft startled sound and Juyeon’s body bemoans the sudden absence of warmth.

He lets his head fall back against the plywood so he can compose himself but the second knock is even louder, and it travels right through his eardrum painfully, making him wince in pain.

Changmin manages to jump out of the way when Younghoon barrels into the room the minute Juyeon flips the lock. He barely acknowledges them before dragging himself to his bed and collapsing face down into it, still in his jeans and collared shirt.

Changmin looks at Juyeon wide-eyed before tip-toeing over to Younghoon’s side of the room and peering down into his bed. Juyeon holds his breath.

“He’s out cold already, I think,” Changmin says after a few seconds of silence. He eyes Juyeon’s empty bed, before flickering back to look at Juyeon, looking unsure, for the first time that night.

Changmin watches him realise the obvious. “Oh,” Is all Juyeon can say at first and then, “We can’t– not while Younghoon hyung’s in the room!” he hisses, incredulously.

Changmin huffs, “Prude.”

“Exhibitionist!” Juyeon shoots back.

They’re both joking, or at least they should be — Juyeon holds his breath, waiting for a punchline that never comes.

Changmin scrunches up his nose, and fuck, even that’s so goddamn endearing. “Your choice if you want to go to sleep with blue balls,” he says, looking down at Juyeon’s crotch pointedly.

The modesty is misplaced, Juyeon’s well-aware given the situation, but he still feels his face flush. The tangible tension from earlier has long since dissipated out of the room unlike his boner, and Juyeon screams a little in frustration on the inside. He also still can’t believe this is an actual conversation that they’re having like it’s the goddamn weather report.

Eventually Changmin lets out a soft sigh. “Fine. You’re right, we probably shouldn’t take a chance on traumatizing him like that,” he says.

Juyeon nods dumbly, when Changmin brushes past him with the promise of ‘Later.’

—————

Aside from the obvious reasons that don’t bother Juyeon as much as they used to, it’s still messy and overwhelming how so many aspects of his life are interwoven with all the other members.

There’s a hard-learned delicate balance to navigating it; a definite art to how they function. So, it’s no one else’s fault but his own that the world has slipped – started to rotate off kilter ever since that night.

And _Later_ comes much sooner than Juyeon had expected – after they finish an eight-hour group practice and it’s only him and Changmin left in the practice room – lightheaded and delirious from the high intensity choreography and the diet they’ve been put on a week before a magazine shoot.

There’s a deep ache in his thighs, but it’s what Juyeon relies on to keep himself grounded on days like this. Next to him Changmin is still monitoring their routine, sweat dampened hair curling at his temples, and the high line of his cheekbone shining bronze.

It’s the low-blood sugar level, Juyeon tells himself – that’s why he can’t stop staring. It has nothing to do with the fact that he hadn’t been able to tune out Changmin’s presence ever since that night, and it’s inconsequential that Changmin’s existence which had always been in the periphery has turned into the only thing he can see now.

Changmin turns to him then, and Juyeon feels his heart constrict at being caught staring.

“You stare too much. It’s getting too obvious,” Changmin tells him.

Changmin doesn’t look away; he never looks away, but this time Juyeon catches the way Changmin’s eyes flicker down to his lips for the fraction of a second.

“Sorry,” Juyeon whispers, a little stupidly.

Changmin tilts his head, and smiles like he’s more amused than annoyed. “Don’t be. I like it.”

They meet each other halfway.

Juyeon used to think he knew Changmin – how he would move from just the way he’d shift his weight, but Changmin’s moving now; he’s everywhere – a warm weight on Juyeon’s lap, a burning touch on the side of his face – a biting kiss against his lips, and Juyeon realises that he knows nothing.

Juyeon wants to learn; mind tinged in lust and desperation, he wants Changmin to teach him.

It’s not perfect; the movement of their lips are rushed and messy but when Changmin sucks on his bottom lip, and licks into his mouth, it’s still the sweetest thing Juyeon’s ever tasted .

He grinds down on Juyeon’s lap with a calculated shift of his hips, making Juyeon gasp – breaks them apart to do it again just so he can swallow the noises it tears out of Juyeon.

It doesn’t take long for Juyeon to figure out that Changmin treats sex the way he always treats a routine: with a steadfast resolve to master the art of it. In the flood of unfamiliar and spine tingling sensations, that’s the one familiarity Juyeon clings to. It’s only right that he keeps up as he always does, so he fists his hand in Changmin’s still damp hair, and pulls – just enough to make Changmin’s hips stutter, and for his relentless kisses to falter.

Juyeon takes in the long line of Changmin’s neck; slides his hand down from his hair to the base of his throat. He gets a little distracted with the vision it creates – how his hand can span across the narrow girth easily.

Changmin stops moving completely, watching Juyeon with his eyes blown with lust and a peach glow high up on his cheeks. He looks so pliant; Juyeon’s sure that if he applies the gentlest pressure he’ll be able to feel the way Changmin’s pulse thrums.

Juyeon leans in to press his lips to the hollow at the base of his throat to taste it, grazing his teeth over the point, making Changmin shudder under him.

Maybe, just maybe, Juyeon understands why Changmin is so quick to resort to biting, even though he knows it isn’t always sexual.

When Juyeon continues to leave lingering kisses and hardly stinging bites, Changmin breathes, “No marks.”

Juyeon laughs softly before biting down sharply just on the edge of Changmin’s collarbone, making him jerk away in shock. “That’s payback,” he says, pulling away.

Changmin pouts at that, but not for long because Juyeon’s quick to kiss it away.

The sound of a locker being shut echoes down the hallway, and the finality of it is enough of a reminder that they’re too exposed – rarely ever alone. This practice room doesn’t even have a lock.

Changmin pulls him in for one last kiss with a tight hand on Juyeon’s jaw before pulling away.

Outside the air is frigid.

It’s a short walk from the company building to the dorm, but Changmin’s cheeks are already flushed from the cold. The road is too dark to see much of anything clearly, but he catches glimpses of the dusky pink spots high up on the apples of Changmin’s cheeks whenever the sodium yellow glow of streetlights fall on them.

When Juyeon reaches out for his hand, he tries his best to ignore the way Changmin’s fingertips burn his palm like ice or how easy it is for Changmin’s small hand to get swallowed up completely by his own.

—————

There are too many bodies in the small enclosed space of their practice room. The wheezing air conditioner at the far corner can barely keep up with the hours old, charged, humid air.

Hyunjae is spread eagle on the floor, and Sunwoo is on his knees, not too far off, hair matted to his face, and eyes sunken in deep with exhaustion.

Three days – that’s how long they have until the release. And there’s still one sequence that they just can’t get right. It’s no one’s fault, but it’s infuriating that Juyeon can’t just take it all onto himself and fix it – make it work. He obsesses over it until none of the steps make sense to him anymore.

On nights like this, sometimes they break. Even Juyeon.

He messes up again; it makes him want to fist his hands in his hair, and pull as hard as he can. But it’s a habit he’s been trying to break, so he twists his water battle in his hands instead, making the plastic crumble noisily.

Eric knows, they way he always does. He drapes himself over Juyeon, sweaty skin sliding over sweaty skin, for a quick hug. Juyeon will feel bad about it later, but for now, he allows himself to push Eric away – never rough, but the distance feels louder than the violence.

Juyeon meets Changmin’s eyes in the reflection of the fogged up mirror. Changmin raises an eyebrow in question and Juyeon nods it away, because he’s too tired for words. Always so fucking tired.

“Let’s go out for some air,” Changmin says, when they’re on an extended break.

Changmin drags him through the empty hallway, past the rows of unlit studios until he reaches Juyeon’s.

“You need to relax,” Changmin says, pushing Juyeon through the door with obvious restrained strength. “Your bad vibes are throwing everyone off,” he says, staring Juyeon down.

Juyeon’s not stupid; he knows from the way Changmin is looking at him – how he flips the lock and slides the white panel across the small window in the door behind him, where this will lead. Still, his heart clenches.

“What’re you doing?” he asks, when Changmin pushes him down onto the sofa.

“Helping you relax,” Changmin tells him, clambering onto Juyeon’s lap. “Stop overthinking everything, Juyeon–ah. You’re doing good enough,” he says, with his fingers dancing over the swell of Juyeon’s cheek, his touch much gentler than his firm tone.

Changmin nips at his lower lip in a barely-there kiss. His knees slip on the leather on either side of Juyeon’s legs when he rises up, using the angle to tip Juyeon’s head further back to kiss him deeper, licking into his mouth.

Changmin keeps kissing him, holding his jaw tight in his hands as he grinds down harshly, and it's what finally sends a fissure through Juyeon, tearing out a groan from the back of his throat.

He feels himself throb, pulsing and straining against the denim. It’s too soon, but the rush, the electricity humming under his skin gets to him, like a spark to gasoline; he’s desperate. He grips Changmin’s hips so hard it’ll probably leave imprints in the shape of his fingers.

Changmin is the first to pull away first, but he catches Juyeon with a shorter kiss when Juyeon chases after him.

They should stop; anytime between the initial soft click of Juyeon’s zipper sliding down the first tooth and now is a good time to step back, but they don’t.

Juyeon feels his heart stutter to a stop, pulse put on pause when Changmin holds him with gentle pressure and heat; scorching skin wrapping around the still swelling base of his cock.

Changmin slides his hand up experimentally, allowing himself one stroke of practice before tightening his fist and sliding down faster.

Juyeon moans, the soft sound slipping out involuntarily at the burn and the pleasure. It’s too dry, and the drag hurts a little, but Juyeon doesn’t want it to stop; maybe Changmin knows that’s what Juyeon needs right now, because he doesn’t.

Changmin spits into his palm before wrapping his hand around Juyeon’s cock again. Juyeon watches, through hazy vision the way Changmin’s spit mixes with the pearling beads of pre-come welling up at the tip.

Changmin kisses him again, hand still pumping relentlessly. Juyeon feels the dull pleasure sharpening and stretching thin, close to breaking.

Changmin lets his lips trail down Juyeon’s chin, over the line of his jaw to press underneath, placing butterfly kisses on the paper-thin skin before he nips at it — licks over the bite to soothe it, and prods it with the tip of his tongue experimentally.

“Come for me, Juyeon-ah,” he murmurs against the wet skin, making Juyeon’s hips jerk, pushing up into Changmin’s palm.

Changmin pulls away, wide eyes trained on the way Juyeon’s cock twitches in his hands. Juyeon groans, feeling his face heat up with embarrassment when a slow smirk spreads across Changmin’s lips.

His body is a traitor to give ammunition away so easily; it’s deadly to let Changmin have leverage because Juyeon knows it’ll come to haunt him later.

Changmin bites him again, just left of his adams apple this time, more sure of himself, with just enough teeth to sting, but not leave behind any evidence, and suddenly Juyeon couldn’t care less.

“So, which one is it?” Changmin asks, hand slowing down to a torturous drag. “Me asking you to come for me, or the biting?”

Juyeon groans. “It’s the handjob,” he bites back, but it lands weakly.

Changmin laughs softly. “Liar.” The violet hue inside the studio makes the brown in Changmin’s eyes glow black, and Juyeon catches glints of his own delirium reflected in them.

“We’re running out of time, Juyeonie. Be good for me and tell me what you like,” Changmin breathes.

Juyeon feels his breath get punched out of his chest; he moans, low in his throat. “Stop being an asshole,” he manages to grit out.

“I’ll take that as a yes to both. For now,” Changmin says, finally taking pity on Juyeon and starting to move his hand faster.

Juyeon muffles the moan he lets out when he comes on Changmin’s collarbone, lips opening up in a gasp, sliding over damp skin.

Changmin smiles, brushing his lips on Juyeon’s cheekbone before mumbling, “Good boy.”

—————

Once their promotions for the album are over, only Juyeon, Changmin, Kevin and Eric are left behind at the dorm.

Everyone else has scattered in all directions to make the most of the lull between now and when they will eventually have to pick up where they left off – rinse and repeat.

Changmin – Juyeon doesn’t know why he’s still here, but he’s glad for it. A tiny sliver of hope that flares up, catching him off guard sometimes, makes him wonder if he’s the reason; selfishly, he wishes he could take Changmin away with him when he leaves tomorrow.

The blue light from the TV flickers off the polished floor as the scenes flash on screen, but Juyeon’s only half paying attention to it. Changmin leans back against the couch, his entire side pressed against Juyeon, small hand heavy on Juyeon’s thigh.

Eric has curled up into a ball on the far end of the couch and is lightly snoring by the time the movie is over and end credits start to roll.

Changmin’s nails catch on the stitches of Juyeon’s shorts.

Time and space feels like sticky toffee, the liminality of it making Juyeon antsy, as though waiting for something to snap.

When Changmin threads their hands together and pulls Juyeon off the couch he follows wordlessly – like blowing glass, Juyeon feels the world expand in the short time it takes for them to reach Juyeon’s room.

Changmin presses him against the door with a firm hand on his sternum to kiss him, slower than it feels right; taking his time because for once they can spare a few moments; not like when they’re rushing in between schedules – stuck in tight spaces – knees on linoleum tile, off-white from disuse.

Juyeon binds them closer together, nipping at Changmin’s lower lip. Changmin opens up for him with a sigh.

It feels good to waste time on things that don’t have to serve a bigger purpose – until Changmin’s fingers curl over the waistband of his shorts.

They part with a slick noise, loud and wet, when Changmin holds him. Juyeon leans their foreheads together, feeling the phantom flutter of Changmin’s lashes as he blinks – watches how Changmin run his tongue over his spit-slicked and swollen bottom lip.

Changmin asks, with a small tilt of his head, and Juyeon gives; he hopes Changmin understands that Juyeon wants nothing more than to unravel himself and _give, give, and give_ as much as Changmin is willing to take.

Changmin sinks to his knees, and gently tugs Juyeon’s shorts down. The door is cold to his touch when he presses his palms flat against the surface behind him; the sensation is grounding.

It’s always fascinating to watch the way he swells up from this vantage point; the way his cock fills out Changmin’s palm completely; the flushed tip slipping in and out of his tight grip; how Changmin runs his lips up the side of it until he reaches the base before working his way up again to pop the leaking head through the flushed ring of his lips.

Juyeon grits his teeth, knees locking into place when Changmin swirls his tongue, lingering on the soft fold of skin under the head and then the thick vein running along the shaft.

He slides his hands into the inky strands of Changmin’s hair, gently scratching his nails on his scalp. It makes Changmin hum around his cock, and the vibration sends lances of pleasure through Juyeon, making him groan.

When Juyeon’s heartbeat starts to pulse in his fingertips, and the heat pooled in the pit of his belly starts to simmer, he touches Changmin on his jaw as a warning.

Changmin’s closed eyes finally flutter open, face tilting up to look at him. It paints a vision so pretty, Juyeon couldn’t look away from those bruised lips even if he tried. The pressure of Changmin’s thumbs on his hip bones feel like a brand.

By the time they make it to Juyeon’s bed, Changmin has managed to pull Juyeon’s shorts off completely, leading him on with an unforgiving hand still sliding down his cock.

Juyeon holds himself over Changmin, supporting himself on one of his forearms to let Changmin settle comfortably on his back. When Changmin lets his legs fall open, Juyeon finally lowers himself down.

“Off. Take this off,” Changmin demands, tugging his t-shirt up when he gets his hands back on Juyeon.

It makes Juyeon grin. “Someone’s needy.”

“The quicker we’re naked, the quicker you can fuck me,” Changmin retorts.

So crude – blunt, and Juyeon’s brain short circuits a little – nerve endings sizzling off with the amount of mental images he’s having. This is more than anything they’ve ever done before.

“That’s,” Juyeon starts. “Changmin– you want that?” he asks.

Changmin holds his face, fingers tight on his jaw, just on the edge of being painful. “I want you,” he says. “More than I think you know. Do you – want me?”

He does.

Juyeon wants Changmin in ways he doesn’t understand yet – admitting to this at least is easier than spilling his guts about everything else.

“Let me see you too,” he says as an answer. “Wanna touch you.”

Juyeon slides his hands under Changmin’s t-shirt, feeling the way the muscles of his stomach jump under his touch.

He rucks up the worn-out fabric; his t-shirt, Juyeon realises. Something about the way it falls over the lines of Changmin’s figure – too long, and too big, just enough to pool around him, makes Juyeon’s breath hitch.

Changmin’s chest blooms with a pretty peach blush when Juyeon kisses his way across the soft swell of his pecs, leaving the skin pearling with goosebumps.

Changmin arches up, body strung tight like a bow when Juyeon wraps his lips around one of his nipples, running the flat of his tongue over the dusky pink peak, rolling it between his lips before pulling off. He feels fingers sliding into his hair, holding him in place when he repeats it on the other.

Juyeon slips the sweatpants off Changmin’s hips, rising up on his knees to pull them off properly. He runs his thumbs in circles over the soft skin of Changmin’s waist, dipping into the divots and brushing over the ridges— loving the way even the sharp points mould themselves to fit in his hands.

Sometimes, he thinks he could span all of Changmin from the tip of his pinky to his thumb.

Even before any of this, Juyeon had been painfully aware of how he and Changmin contrasted – aside from all the intangible ways – Changmin is small, made to fit into places of comfort while Juyeon takes up so much space, even when he wishes he didn’t.

Due to recent developments he’s realised that it’s also kind of hot.

But then Changmin’s tightening his thighs around Juyeon, using corded, hard muscle to pull his hips down. Years of dancing has made him powerful – there’s no way that he could do what he does on stage otherwise, so no, Juyeon won’t break Changmin, but god, sometimes he wants to.

Juyeon drags Changmin up for a biting kiss, even as he grinds down one last time. Changmin looks dazed, eyes glazed over – unseeing, when Juyeon pulls off of him completely.

Juyeon reaches over Changmin, pulling open his dresser to pull out a condom and his pathetic stash of mini-lube bottles.

He sits back on his haunches, foil crinkling in his palm. “Do you still want this?”

Changmin raises up on one elbow to look Juyeon directly in his eyes. “Don’t make me beg,” Changmin warns, voice slipping deliciously low. “Because I don’t think you could handle it if I do.”

Juyeon arches an eyebrow at him. “I was just being nice. But what if I make you beg first?” he asks, smirking down at Changmin.

“Go ahead. Try it,” Changmin challenges, pulling a bottle of lube out of Juyeon’s hands and flipping open the cap. He takes one of Juyeon’s hands in his. “So pretty,” he murmurs, thumb pressing down in the middle of Juyeon’s palm, then tracing a long path all the way down to the tip of his index finger. “So big.”

Juyeon scowls, feigning offence. “You only love me for my massive hands, not my personality.”

“Wrong. I also love you for your massive dick,” Changmin replies easily, giving him an overly saccharine smile. “Speaking of which, you need to get to work if you’re going to fuck me with it.”

And just like that, Juyeon’s final brain cell — gone, disintegrating into fine dust particles.

He warms up the dollop of lube Changmin had squeezed onto his index and middle finger before trailing them down Changmin’s half-hard cock, lying on his stomach till it starts to stiffen. He moves further down, running them over the textured skin of Changmin’s balls, making him shudder and then finally past his perineum.

He holds his breath as he touches the tight ring of puckered up muscle, watching the way Changmin shifts when he presses in, mesmerised with how the muscle finally gives, sucking him in without warning.

He soothes a hand over Changmin’s thighs, feeling the way the muscles strain, before pushing further in. He starts to move his hand when he’s three knuckles deep inside Changmin.

When he twists, aiming up, it punches out a curse from Changmin that only serves to embolden Juyeon. He grabs the bottle of lube, pressing the nozzle against the point where he ends and Changmin begins to squirt out another glob of clear liquid. It makes Changmin hiss, body jerking at the sensation.

“You’re so messy,” Changmin whines, drawing his arm over his face, hiding in the crook of his elbow.

“It’s easier this way, trust me,” Juyeon tells him. “Want you to be wet and loose when I fuck you.”

“Shit,” Changmin curses. “You’re nasty. I knew it,” he laughs, a little out of breath.

Juyeon pushes in a third finger at the same time he asks, “Do you like it?” He drags his fingers out to push back in, and again and again, crooking them to press up against the small bundle of nerves that makes Changmin’s cock jump and his hips jerk.

“Oh. Fuck, fuck. There,” Changmin gasps.

“Tell me,” Juyeon whispers, mouthing at Changmin’s leaking cock.

“You’re evil,” Changmin groans. “Yes,” he says, after a beat. Quieter; “Please. Juyeon, now. Do it.”

Juyeon’s resolve had been hanging by a thread from the moment Changmin had let his legs fall apart and this is what makes the thread snap completely.

Changmin had been right. He’s not strong enough to handle a desperate Changmin, begging to be fucked open by him.

His head buzzes, as he rolls down the condom over his cock, and slicks himself up. The pleasure is almost blinding in that final moment when he slides home, slipping into wet heat. Changmin’s hands wander across his shoulders looking for purchase, blunt nails digging into damp flesh.

Juyeon holds himself completely still, even when every fibre of his being screams at him to move; to snap his hips, and split Changmin open. But Changmin’s mouth is parted in a pretty little ‘O’, lashes fluttering against his high cheekbones, chest skipping breaths as he tries to accommodate Juyeon, so he wills himself to hold himself in place till Changmin settles. He whispers meaningless words of comfort — disjointed praises against Changmin’s brow, hand soothing up past his rib cage.

Finally, Changmin opens his eyes. “I’m fine. It’s okay. You can move,” he says.

Juyeon nods before circling his hips experimentally. “This okay?”

A breathless laugh punches out of Changmin. “Barely felt that but yes, we’re still good to go.”

Juyeon dips down to place a quick kiss on his lips before starting to move with purpose. He pulls out until he’s almost slipping out of Changmin’s hole before slamming back in.

As they build up a quick rhythm, meeting each other halfway, Changmin’s features smooth out, mouth falling slack. Juyeon drinks in the long line of his neck, glistening with sweat when Changmin tips his head back with a groan when Juyeon nails his prostate, then again and again.

Juyeon slides his hands under Changmin’s thighs, lifting him further off the bed to push his legs closer to his body, knees almost touching his chest. The change in angle lets Juyeon bury himself deeper at just the right angle and it Changmin squirm under him, voice drifting off into a thin whine.

Their kisses start to become too messy to be just that, and end up being a wet slide of lips against each other, uncoordinated and messy with desperation.

Juyeon snakes a hand between their bodies to grab Changmin’s cock and it makes Changmin almost arch off the mattress. Changmin comes, dripping over Juyeon’s fingers when Juyeon buries his face in Changmin’s neck, teeth scraping against his pulse point harshly.

It makes Changmin clamp down on Juyeon’s cock, tight like a vice, strong muscle sucking him in deep. That impossible heat and pressure is what finally makes his hips falter, spine tensing before he comes.

They stay pressed flush against each other, sweat and come cooling between them until Juyeon goes soft and his cock threatens to slip out. Changmin winces when he pulls out, making a face at the slick mess on his stomach.

The aftermath of it should be awkward; from helping Changmin clean himself up, to tying up the used condom, to Changmin leaving only to return with a half empty bottle of grape juice. It shouldn’t feel so easy — so normal, but it is.

Changmin slips under the covers with him, heavy eyelids fluttering sleepily, and smelling more like Juyeon than he does of himself.

 _I could learn to love you,_ Juyeon thinks, stuck between gossamer threads of sleep and sex; _more than I do already._

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! kudos and comments are chicken soup for the sleep deprived writer brain. ;) 
> 
> come indulge in jukyu brain rot with me: [Twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/2ndstartotheryt)
> 
> [CuriousCat](https://curiouscat.qa/2ndstartotheryt)


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